Friday, June 29, 2012

Holy Mañana



Everything smaggle-spratted
Along that blessed lane of
Crazy eyes and goner real estate
With the running girl, running mad,
Running in circles
With her hair following behind
In a close second
While the father of someone who you used to forget
Digs his life and digs out a grave
For himself
In the day after day after day
To the monster purr
Of a motorcycle
Then stops to watch
The little boy skate by
With baseball bat ski poles
That carry him through the floating years
Of hooligan smiles
And ice cream pie rewards
For a good deed well done
Before the tugboat flies
And the fireworks shower ashes
Upon them all.

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